Waterfront Park-Portland, OR
“Dude, what just happened?”
Greyden’s voice was choked with emotion, mostly fear, as he and Colin gazed upon the battlefield. Red was liberally splashed, literally…everywhere.
“Dude,” Colin said, shaking his head, “I don’t know.”
Screams rang out across the field as fighters of all shapes and sizes tore into each other. Limbs flew, heads rolled, and guts spilled wet and heavy upon the ground with one sickening splat after another.
“Dude,” Colin said weakly, “Look!” His voice was little more than a rough squeak as he pointed to a spot nearly twenty yards off. The two of them gaped as they saw one of their group, their stone giant mage, Jonah, get pummeled to the ground as sparks flew from Jonah’s fingertips. It might have been impressive had there not been a huge, spike-like sword thrust through his chest, pinning him to the ground since its tip was buried in the crimson-soaked ground behind him.
“Get moving dammit!”
Colin and Greyden both grunted as they were knocked to their faces. They both had the impression of a form leaping over them. The yell that came from the new form was fierce and made them both shudder as the sound of steel striking flesh reached their ears.
“Dude,” Colin whined, “What in the HELL is happening?!”
(to be continued)
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